


no grave can hold my body down (i'll crawl home to her)

by lordbirthdayxv



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Realism, Polyamory, Rimming, Smut, Spitroasting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:02:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29917989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordbirthdayxv/pseuds/lordbirthdayxv
Summary: dead boyfriend comes back to life and discovers you now do the fuck on his college roommate/best friend. shock and horror.
Relationships: Chae Hyungwon/Im Changkyun | I.M, Chae Hyungwon/Im Changkyun | I.M/Yoo Kihyun, Im Changkyun | I.M/Yoo Kihyun
Comments: 25
Kudos: 54





	no grave can hold my body down (i'll crawl home to her)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [showmeurteef](https://archiveofourown.org/users/showmeurteef/gifts).



> the warm bodies/nina forever au literally nobody asked for except [showmeurteef](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/showmeurteef/pseuds/showmeurteef) but they asked for a hwckki not this dumpster fire of epic proportions but alas, this is all my smooth brain could offer

In the early hours of one rainy morning, a young man with pallid skin and sullied clothes weaves his way through the town cemetery. He makes his way out of the gate, unobserved by the groundskeeper, who is still snoring in his cabin.

The postman on his early rounds would later report to have seen a man matching this description, although he does not remember what the man looked like. The newsboy had a better, more colourful story to tell. According to him, the man had milky eyes, wore rags for clothes and moved in a jittery sort of way. The young deputy sent to interview him was doubtful and later proven correct when the boy revealed he was a great fan of zombie horror. He was promptly dismissed as a witness.

The lady on Farnsworth Lane claimed that the man carried a gun and was on his way to enter her house before her dog scared him away. She owns a miniscule pomeranian so the deputy is naturally, doubtful once more. In any case, her next door neighbour and best friend confirmed her story and swore up and down that the man had indeed “tried to break into poor Claudia’s house, likely to steal her vintage teacup collection, you know how expensive those things are? I would pay an arm and a leg for them but she isn’t selling”.

However, between envious sighs and more affirmations, she let slip that she wakes up past 7 and the man was last seen before 6:15. The deputy is frankly grateful to drop her as a witness but it just complicates his case. He is newly promoted. This is his first assignment. The groundskeeper of the town cemetery reported a grave crime (pun intended, thinks the deputy, thinking himself clever for that one) a few hours ago: a grave had been vandalized and robbed.

It belonged to a man of Asian descent, who lived in a small house down Baird Street, just a few blocks away from Farnsworth Lane. “Definitely Chinese,” the keeper had said with some distaste (he is wrong, it’s Korean), “with a male lover and all,” the keeper’s disgust was palpable now. Shock and horror, one of the gays! The deputy is certain that plays a role in the crime. After all, why else would someone rob a gay man’s grave if not for some prior grudge stemming from his deviant sexuality. 

That gets him thinking. It was a small town. They didn’t have many gays. Or did they? Moral panic sets into the young deputy’s brain. What if they had more of them?? The children! He decides then that solving this crime takes precedence above everything. He abandons his incomplete report on his desk, dons his hat and coat, and leaves to investigate. Perhaps the lady with the dog was on to something after all. 

Naturally, he doesn’t think to tell the deceased man’s lover, who now happens to have a new lover. This information will become relevant in a minute. Anyway, the deputy’s incompetence actually proves useful because the dazed young man from the cemetery is hiding in the lover’s backyard. This is because the young man is, as one may have guessed by now, the deceased lover. 

Earlier this morning, Hyungwon, for that is this strapping young man’s name, found himself very much alive and in desperate need to climb out of his grave. He had slowly made his way home, having no idea where else to go but now, here in his yard, he doesn’t know if he should have come. He doesn’t know if Changkyun still lives here (he does) or how long he has been dead (6 years). Doubt and fear make him weak and he cannot bring himself to knock on the front door.

So here he is, crouching behind the rosebushes (had Changkyun picked up gardening in his absence?), contemplating what he should do when the kitchen door opens and a tiny little pug comes running out, followed by a “If you pee on the roses again Ki’s gonna suspend walking privileges for a whole week.”

Hyungwon freezes in terror and anticipation. Changkyun is still in his shorts and oversized shirt, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he walks out. When he looks up his gaze immediately settles directly on Hyungwon, who is too tall to be properly hidden behind the bushes. There is a moment that is almost dreamlike, where Changkyun stares, sleepy-eyed and unfocused, at his dead boyfriend crouching in his rosebushes. 

Then the deadness registers and he opens his mouth to scream. But Hyungwon is prepared. He shoots like a projectile from his hiding spot and tackles Changkyun to the ground, a hand over his mouth. The dastardly little dog begins yipping and tugging at Hyungwon’s shins with its sharp little teeth but Hyungwon doesn’t care. His eyes are fixed on Changkyun’s which are wide with fear. 

Hyungwon opens his mouth but what comes out is a croak. How does one speak after prolonged disuse of the vocal cords? Changkyun is slowly unfreezing below him, struggling weakly, and from what he remembers of his boyfriend (ex, he reminds himself, but was he an ex if they never broke up? Hm, questions questions), Changkyun has a rather mean right hook. So he forces out another whale noise before finally getting out a horribly creaky, guttural “it’s me.”

It doesn’t placate Changkyun, who is now actively trying to bite his hand and wedge a knee into Hyungwon’s balls. The dog is still at it so Hyungwon tries his best to shake the thing off, knowing that kicking it would only aggravate Changkyun further, and tries speaking again.

“It’s me, Cha- Changkyun.”

Changkyun bites his hand and Hyungwon finally lets go with a yelp. Changkyun pushes him off and whistles, breathing hard. The dog scampers over and he scoops it up, ready to run inside and call the police. Hyungwon’s desperation reaches maximum capacity. 

“Help me,” he pleads hoarsely, “please help me-” 

He ends in a wheeze, incapable of producing more sound. He is so tired. His muscles still ache and a low pounding has made itself known in his head. He can still see fear in Changkyun’s eyes and it hurts like anything, even knowing where it is coming from. Hyungwon thinks it can’t get any worse.

It gets worse.

“Baby, have you see my charging brick? I need to go in twenty and this thing is completely-”

A man emerges from the kitchen and stops in his tracks in the doorway, the phone in his hand clattering to the ground. 

“-dead,” he finishes, his eyes growing wide with astonished recognition. 

Hyungwon blinks and looks between the two. Notices the newcomer’s clothes, or lack thereof. Notices the new, different kind of panic written on Changkyun’s face. His head throbs and the pain trickles into his eyes. 

“Wha-” he starts and Changkyun takes a small step forward.

“Hyungwon,” he whispers, “Hyungwon you were- you were _gone_ -”

But Hyungwon is having a hard time listening. He is having a hard time doing anything, to be honest. Spots dot his vision and the world spins with an almighty lurch. 

“Out of everyone,” he chokes out, “you just _had_ to pick the rat bastard.” And the world goes out like a light. 

When he comes to, he is in a warm bed, although what bodies have warmed it before him is a niggling thought that sours his stomach. He stares up at the ceiling and wishes he were dead. Why couldn’t he stay dead? Was he brought to life simply to be cucked? If so, what a cruel god oversaw their fates. 

“I wish I was dead,” he mutters, staring at the ceiling.

“I really thought you were,” comes a hesitant voice from his right, “buried you myself and all.”

Hyungwon turns his head to find Changkyun in a chair next to the bed, wringing his hands. He is staring down into his lap, refusing to make eye contact. The sight makes Hyungwon simultaneously sad and angry.

“Oh trust me, I fully intended to stay buried,” his voice is sharper than he had meant it to be but he doesn’t care, “in fact, I really want to go lie back down. I’m sure the slot’s available still.”

Changkyun looks up, hurt flashing across his face. “Hyungwon you were dead for _6 years_ , are you really mad at me for trying to move on?”

Hyungwon stares, the back of his scalp prickling and growing cold. 6 whole years. Changkyun looks leaner, his baby fat completely gone, his hair long enough to be tied back to keep out of his face. Hyungwon’s heart sinks.

“How long?” he croaks. 

Changkyun blinks and looks away. “7 months.”

“Did he,” Hyungwon swallows his disgust, “did he- _seduce_ you?”

Changkyun snorts. “No, he comforted me and in time it turned into something more-”

“So he _did_ seduce you-!”

Changkyun throws up his hands. “For fuck’s sake, no he didn’t! I was lonely here and the neighbours were awful. He helped me out and even moved because I wouldn’t leave.”

“Why not?” Hyungwon asks, eyes narrowed, “not like you had anything left in this stupid little town. Why didn’t you just go be with him in London?”

Changkyun stares at him a long moment, his eyes shining with bright pain. “What do you mean, nothing left? You were still here.”

Hyungwon purses his lips and stares back at the ceiling, chest tightening and growing heavy with the weight of tears he isn’t willing to shed just now. It is all so much. He doesn’t think he belongs here, not anymore. The sheets smell like lemon zest. The clock on the nightstand is baroque when it used to be a cheap digital one he and Changkyun had found together in a yard sale. Changkyun is wearing a plaid shirt that he would never in a million years buy. This house, Hyungwon realizes with a growing panic, wasn’t his and Changkyun’s anymore. It was _his_ and Changkyun’s.

He sits bolt upright, startling Changkyun half out of his chair. 

“I need to go,” Hyungwon mutters, swinging his feet out of the bed and on to the floor, “I can’t stay here.”

“What do you mean?” Changkyun’s voice is shrill as he watches Hyungwon put his dirty old shoes back on, “where else will you go?”

“Anywhere,” Hyungwon snaps, getting to his feet, “away from your little nesting ground.”

Changkyun looks ready to cry but before he can open his mouth and Hyungwon can stomp to the door, it opens. 

Kihyun, for that is this particular strapping young man’s name, stops short, the soup and the glass of water sloshing dangerously close to spilling. “Uh I brought some food,” he looks from Hyungwon to Changkyun, “is everything okay?”

“No, Kihyun, everything is not okay,” Hyungwon snarls and is greatly delighted when Kihyun flinches, “I come home to find you’ve taken over my entire life, grow roses in my fucking yard, and fuck my boyfriend on the daily. Not to mention the dog that you so presumptuously keep here. So no my old friend, everything is very much _not okay_. Now get the fuck out of my way so I can go be dead again.”

He pushes past a stunned Kihyun and down the flight of stairs to the front door. He is just about to open the door when a knock sounds on the other side. Hyungwon peeks through the keyhole and curses under his breath. It is the town deputy, finally where he should have gone at once, and Hyungwon is certain there will be big trouble if he is caught walking around in all his dead glory. 

He backs away from the door slowly and brushes against something. Startled, he turns to find Kihyun, who offers him a tight smile and a “go upstairs and hide,” before moving to the door. Throwing all grudges aside, Hyungwon sprints up the stairs and back into the bedroom where Changkyun is waiting, nervous and on edge. 

“I saw him pull up, it must be about the grave.” 

Hyungwon wordlessly sits on the edge of the bed. They can hear low snatches of conversation from downstairs. Despite his reservations, Hyungwon hates the thought of Kihyun, curse him, alone with the deputy. He clenches his fist tightly with apprehension. 

“If they found me,” he begins, “what’s the worst that could happen?”

Changkyun tears his eyes away from the door and stares at him. “I don’t know Hyungwon. Small town like this finds the walking dead, not to mention _gay_ walking dead, I think burning him at the stake isn’t completely off the table, even if it is the twenty-first century,”

Hyungwon nods and together they wait in awkward silence. It is about twenty more minutes when they hear the front door close and the car start up and drive away. Changkyun’s phone dings the arrival of a text. 

“Kihyun says he needs to go file an official report,” he reads and looks up at Hyungwon, “um, guess it’s you and me for a while.”

Great. Hyungwon would rather be anywhere but here. But he nods and Changkyun perks up immediately. 

“Eat your food,” he urges, “and then we can watch the new season of How to Get Away with Murder.”

Hyungwon gawks. “There’s another one?? Is it good?”

Changkyun picks up the tray from the nightstand, “there’s 6,” he puts it on Hyungwon’s lap and smiles wide, “and they all suck ass.”

“So,” says Hyungwon, trying his best to keep his tone light, “you and Changkyun, huh?”

It is a week later. They have successfully skirted around the topic under the mutually agreed guise of Let The Dead Man Get Used To Being Alive. Changkyun has just left for work at the library and Kihyun, who mostly works from home (because he’s rich and can afford to work remotely, thinks Hyungwon acidly), is sitting opposite Hyungwon at the kitchen table. He had been drinking coffee and scanning the morning paper when Hyungwon made his query and is now looking a little lost, coffee cooling as he thinks of an appropriate thing to say to his boyfriend’s ex-boyfriend come back from the grave. 

“Yes,” is all he can think to say. Hyungwon internally gloats at making the usually witty Kihyun tongue-tied and leans across the table, arms folded innocently. 

“Didn’t you use to have a crush on him back in college?”

Kihyun puts his mug down slowly and deliberately before making direct eye contact. It deters Hyungwon a little but he refuses to look away. 

Kihyun regards him for a second. “I never acted on it.”

“Look at you, playing the martyr,” Hyungwon smiles unsettlingly wide, “bet it felt good when they put me in the ground. Did you start at the funeral or did you wait until after the reception?” he props his chin on his palm, “consoling poor little grieving Changkyunnie? Did you hug him when he cried? Hm? Kiss him? He’d have let you, he was very distraught I imagine. And you are good at it, if I remember correctly,” faint colour rises in Kihyun’s cheeks but he doesn’t give in. 

Hyungwon pushes on. “He’d have been easily manipulable. You work in finance, you’d know how to _capitalize_ on such things.”

If Kihyun is at all bothered by his little spiel, he doesn’t show it. He waits until he is sure Hyungwon has said his piece and then leans forward.

“What we have was born out of a natural proximity and shared pain,” he says tonelessly, “the pain of losing a lover and a friend-”

Hyungwon scoffs. “We were never friends.”

“No?” Kihyun looks at him sharply and Hyungwon swallows despite himself. He has always hated feeling small in front of Kihyun, who was at least a head shorter than him. Kihyun prods further. “I helped you get a date with the boy I liked because you looked like you would die without him. I could have told him so many things-” he pauses and glares, “and you’ll sit there and tell me we weren’t friends?”

Hyungwon glares. “Don’t you dare hold that over me. I was honest with him years ago. You stole him away when you had the chance.”

“You wanted him to what, wallow in grief and stay alone his entire life, years after you were gone?”

“If it came to it, then yes.”

He hadn’t meant to say that and saying it out loud makes him feel like he has been hollowed from the inside out. In the early morning quiet of the kitchen, his words hang like clotted dust in the sunlight, staining the air and making him choke. He swallows. 

“Forgive me for speaking for him,” says Kihyun, voice hushed, “but nobody would want that, certainly not him. And most certainly not you.” 

He leaves with the scrape of a chair and the rustle of paper, leaving Hyungwon mortified and agreeing with him. 

When they talk again it is two days later. Hyungwon follows Kihyun to the kitchen when he gets up to bring more beer and corners him against the fridge. 

“Listen, about that day,” he starts hesitantly, “I didn’t- I didn’t mean that- I didn’t-,” he struggles to find the right words and sighs, “I’d want him to be happy. Of course I’d want him to be happy.”

Kihyun nods sharply and looks away. “I know.”

“So uh. We’re good?”

There is a pause and Hyungwon almost loses hope but then Kihyun nods. 

“Yeah,” he clears his throat and straightens up, “can you um let me go now?”

Hyungwon realizes belatedly that he had been caging Kihyun against the fridge door with both arms on either side of him. He quickly backs away. 

“Sorry I-”

“Hey, no fair,” he turns around to find Changkyun grinning in the kitchen doorway, “you can’t have that kind of party and not invite me.”

Hyungwon blanks for a moment before jumping another foot backward. He can hear Kihyun gag slightly and he flushes a bright red.

“Shut up,” Kihyun stutters, making his way out of the kitchen, “it’s nothing like that.”

Hyungwon is starting to think it’s something like that. 

He has been moping around at home for weeks now since he can’t go out to work without causing numerous immediate 911 calls. He has made friends with Barry the pug (he tries not to laugh at the name since Changkyun picked it) and spends most of his days reading or browsing the internet. Kihyun has bought him a new phone and it keeps him company well enough. 

Things between them have been civil. He tries not to touch Changkyun in Hyungwon’s presence, which Hyungwon finds unnecessary and hilarious but will not point out because blue balling Kihyun is always a good idea. He tries to engage with Hyungwon and though he is usually shot down, today Hyungwon is feeling magnanimous. 

When Kihyun says good morning from his seat on the couch where he is watching the news, Hyungwon not only answers, but plops down next to him and steals the remote. 

“Let’s watch something fun.”

He can see Kihyun’s flabbergasted look from the corner of his eye as he switches to Netflix to some crime show with a drab colour palette. It is 9am when they start and by the time it is 12 and half a season has passed, Hyungwon is comfortably settled, his thigh touching Kihyun’s and his head on Kihyun’s shoulder because he is drowsy again. It is almost mechanical for him and for a very long time, he doesn’t notice how incredibly stiff Kihyun is next to him. 

It is when Kihyun’s hand tentatively and respectfully comes to rest on his shoulder that he realizes the error of his ways.

Now they’re both stiff as boards and Hyungwon is cursing the moment he decided to sit on this couch.

He doesn’t want to address the fact that this feels familiar. Memories of their dorm days, of lying on separate beds and sometimes on the same one. Talking. About things that had happened that day, things that were bothering Hyungwon. The cute little sophomore with bleach blond hair and an eyebrow piercing. Hyungwon’s crush on said sophomore with blond hair and piercing. 

And sometimes, when times were tough and there was beer involved, more than talking. Hands, fingertips touching tentatively, followed by palms, legs tangled like the roots of old, time-worn trees, and lips. 

Sometimes they kissed. And Kihyun was good at it. 

Hyungwon thinks of Changkyun’s little rosebud mouth finding Kihyun’s in the dark with the easy grace that comes with old love, and realizes it’s _something like that_ when the image doesn’t make him want to bash his skull, or Kihyun’s for that matter, against the nearest wall.

Barry chooses this moment to come barreling into the living room on his pudgy little legs, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, and Hyungwon separates from Kihyun like he has been burned. 

“Barry! There you are you little so and so.” 

He ignores Kihyun and whatever look is on his face and quickly picks up the yipping dog. “I’ll be in my room,” he announces and makes a hasty exit. God, he does not want a repeat of this.

Things come to a head the next night. He is calm and collected, having almost forgotten about the terribly mortifying ordeal that probably looked like a cuddle to any innocent bystander, and is watching YouTube videos on his phone. There is a lull in sound when he clicks on a longer video and the wifi struggles a bit to load it. It is then, with his eyes fixed on the moving grey circle chasing its own tail in the middle of his blank phone screen that he hears it. 

A low, hushed moan. 

Hyungwon freezes. Involuntarily, he trains his ears and listens, slowly pulling out his earbuds. There is a faint thump and another moan, drawn out, cut off with a choked sound. Hyungwon’s ears burn, the heat traveling a fiery path down his neck, tightening his chest into a vortex centered in this middle of his ribcage. He knows he should put his earbuds back in and mind his own business but he cannot bring himself to look at his phone. His eyes are fixed on the wall in front of him, his entire body frozen stiff.

There is another thump and what sounds like “fuck, baby.”

It sounds like Kihyun. 

Heart jumping straight into his throat, Hyungwon abandons his phone on the sheets next to him along with any pretense of disinterest, and listens, fully aware of his shamelessness this time. It is Kihyun, his low, raspy voice whispering the most lewd things a tongue can utter. Hyungwon has never known him to be the type to dirty talk. He has always grunted or whimpered his way to an orgasm, depending on which end he had been at the time. Then again, drunk sex that they both regretted the morning after should hardly be the gauge to judge him by. Now, in the confines of the house he shares with the man he loves, Kihyun talks, _oh he talks_ and Hyungwon cannot stop himself from listening. 

When Changkyun’s throaty “I got you baby,” filters into Hyungwon’s ears, he experiences something he would later unabashedly liken to a religious experience. Changkyun sounds so confident, so sure, it makes Hyungwon’s cock press uncomfortably against the fabric of his boxers. He can hear Kihyun’s soft _ah ah ah_ in time with the creaking of the bed, mixed with Changkyun’s grunts and soft reassurances, a heady cocktail of dirty, filthy sounds that washes over Hyungwon’s body like a tidal wave.

A thump, louder than before, and Kihyun whimpers. Hyungwon can picture him on his side, cheek pressed into the pillow wet with tears and drool, and Changkyun holding one of his legs over his shoulder as he thrusts into him, slow and deep. Hyungwon clamps a hand over his mouth and comes, hard, his boxers quickly growing soggy with his release. He looks down into his lap, eyes rheumy and head swimming in a vat of liquid.

Shame worms his way into his gut as realization strikes. He grabs the pillow next to him, shoves his face into it, and muffles a frustrated scream. 

“We need to talk.”

It is Wednesday. Kihyun is in London (thankfully), and Hyungwon is learning the chords to Paint it Black as Changkyun reads on the couch. 

Or at least he was but now he is staring at Hyungwon with this look that he recognizes from bygone days of coupledom spells either Uncomfortable Confrontation or Certain Doom.

Right now, Hyungwon is leaning more toward the former. Fuck.

“About what?”

Changkyun puts his book aside and crosses his arms. “What’s up with you these days? You’ve been going out of your way to avoid us.”

Hyungwon smiles thinly. “No I’m not.”

“You are,” Changkyun narrows his eyes, “did something happen with Ki? I know you don’t like him or the idea of us together but I- ”

“That’s not true,” Hyungwon whispers. 

“What isn’t?”

Hyungwon sighs and looks up. “I’m fine with him. And- you both.”

Changkyun pauses, suddenly at a loss. Hyungwon looks away. 

“I’m okay, really, Kyunnie,” it still makes his throat hurt to say his name like that, “I’m fine I’m just- ” _lonely_. He forces on a smile and gets to his feet, grabbing the guitar, “don’t worry your little head. I’m okay.”

He walks over and plants a kiss on the top of Changkyun’s head before running upstairs to the spare bedroom.

They have dinner together that night and it is quieter than usual. Kihyun keeps his eyes on his plate and Changkyun steals looks at Hyungwon now and then but they all avoid eye contact. Hyungwon is getting up to go back to his room after cleaning his plate when Changkyun grabs his wrist.

“Stay,” he says softly. Hyungwon, heart beating a little faster, slips back into his seat. Changkyun is quiet for a little bit, frowning down at his plate. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he declares finally, startling the other two. He looks between them and sighs. “I can’t do this. It’s too much.” 

“I love you,” he pokes Kihyun’s cheek which is still full of mashed potato, making him swallow too quickly and almost choke. Changkyun pays him no mind as he coughs and turns to Hyungwon, poking him square in the middle of the chest. “And I love you too.”

Hyungwon feels the floor give out from beneath his feet. He looks to Kihyun who is wide-eyed with shock, trying to swallow his food. Changkyun leans back in his chair and throws up his hands.

“So why can’t you two love each other?”

“Mwoya ssibal?” Kihyun whispers, English failing to contain his shocked incredulity. Hyungwon agrees. 

Changkyun casts him an annoyed glance. “What? Both of you love me. You could love each other and we’d all be a happy family that incidentally also fucks.”

Hyungwon chokes on air and Kihyun on the bits on potato still in his mouth. 

“Changkyun,” Hyungwon stammers, “what the fuck, baby-”

Changkyun leans forward and takes his hand, his eyes filling with old, familiar tenderness. Hyungwon’s heart skips a beat and for a moment, it is only the two of them in the world, the soft glow of the kitchen light the only thing witness to their love.

“You’ve been so lonely, Hyungwon,” Changkyun says, thumb brushing over the back of his hand, “you have me, you will always have me. You will have _us_.”

Hyungwon blinks once, twice, before gently wresting his hand from Changkyun’s grasp. He ignores the look of hurt on Changkyun’s face and gets to his feet.

“I love you, Changkyun,” he says softly, “but I don’t need your pity fuck.”

He turns and walks out of the kitchen, cradling his bleeding heart but at least with his pride intact.

Well. Mostly. 

It doesn’t look so good right now.

Long after they should have all gone to bed, Hyungwon sits on his bed with Barry curled up on his lap, idly stroking his little head and listening to the muffled sobs with mounting trepidation. Changkyun had been crying for the better part of an hour now. He can hear Kihyun’s soft voice shushing and reassuring him interspersed with the crying. 

Hyungwon’s heart aches. He knows Changkyun means well and yet. He looks around the room. At the newly painted walls, at the little changes in furniture, at Barry. Nothing is his here anymore except Changkyun and now not even him. Not like he used to be, not completely. He feels like an intruder in a house that once used to be his. The feeling had abated in the past month or so he has been back but now it comes back in a deluge. 

A part of him knows he loves them both in wholly different ways. Always has. And now, in his absence, they have found and loved each other. He can’t fault either of them but this terrible, terrible loneliness sinking its sharp teeth into his chest is unrelenting. Longing to be touched, soothed, comforted. It grips his body in a bracelet of spines until every fibre of his being is screaming for him to get out of bed and go to them. Let them hold him until the fear washes away to be replaced by something else, something warmer.

“I wish I were a part of what they have,” he whispers out loud and looks down at Barry who is looking at him quizzically, “I wish I were a part of them.”

Barry cocks his little head to a side and sniffs. Hyungwon scratches behind his ear.

“But I’m dead,” his throat tightens and he shuts his eyes, “I’ve been dead a long, long time.”

Barry climbs up his lap and stands with his front paws against Hyungwon’s chest, trying desperately to reach high enough to lick his chin. Hyungwon laughs quietly before leaning down within his reach. He is immediately slobbered upon. 

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you, Barry but I’d like a proper kiss with, you know, human lips,” he sighs, “it has been literal years, y’know.”

Barry doesn’t know but he sympathizes all the same. He licks Hyungwon’s face some more before settling back down and wagging his little tail, huffing all the while. It is quiet for a while as Barry breathes as loudly as he can and Hyungwon thinks. 

“If I were to, I don’t know… go to them right now… would they mind? I mean-” he stares into space, “I just… I would like to be… held, you know?” 

It feels easier admitting this to Barry. At least he can’t understand and mock him. He just huffs a little more and his tongue hangs out of his mouth.

“Do you think so? I don’t think Ki would… actually, he might. He’s a bit of a freak, you never know.”

A yip. Hyungwon nods.

“Yeah. He was like that in college too. Kind of how we became friends,” his cheeks burn, “we um. Liked a lot of similar stuff. Figures we both liked the same sophomore from Literature.”

Loud, happy yips. The drool drips a little on Hyungwon’s lap but he doesn’t mind. 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s why I think- I think he won’t mind.” He strokes the little dog’s head and scoops his big cheeks in both his hands. Barry looks at him, happy and just a little deranged. 

“You’re right. Guess I’ll only know if I try,” he looks at Barry apologetically, “Sorry little man, but you’re gonna have to sleep in your own bed ‘cause I’m gonna go try my luck, which has been pretty shitty all my life but hey, you do what you can with the cards and men you’re dealt.”

He picks up the dog and gets to his feet, carries him out into the hall and puts him on the ground where he paws at Hyungwon’s pant leg a little before getting the hint and running down to his bed. Hyungwon turns to the door to the master bedroom, says a quick prayer that he thinks is a Hail Mary but isn’t really sure, and gently turns the handle. 

It is dark as pitch inside and Hyungwon has to use his phone screen to navigate. Kihyun and Changkyun and sleeping on opposite sides of the bed, deeply asleep from the looks of it. There is just enough space in the middle to crawl in. 

He makes it to the foot of the bed when hesitation roots him to the spot. There was no turning back from this, good or bad outcome, and he still isn’t sure if he can bear what is to come. He begins spiraling again, trembling all over with newfound dread. What if one of them woke up and saw him, standing in the middle of their dark bedroom like some cryptid from a copypasta. 

“You gonna climb in or what?”

Fuck. Hyungwon clicks off his homescreen and stands in the darkness. There is a rustle of sheets that is almost inaudible over the deafening roar of blood pulsing in his ears and then there is a hand flopping around, feeling for him and gripping the edge of his shirt.

“I’m so sorry,” Hyungwon squeaks, tears springing to his eyes, “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“Shut up,” says Changkyun, sleepy and annoyed, pulling him forward, “come lie wimme.”

Hyungwon’s knees hit the bed and then the palms of his hands. He kicks off his shoes and crawls forward and under the sheets. Changkyun rolls over and clings to him, tucking his face in the crook of his neck like he used to and this time Hyungwon really does cry. 

Weeks worth of longing, sorrow, and loss that ran deeper than the grooves in the pads of his fingers, all tangled together in a handful of sobs that claw their way out of his throat in that very instance. He feels something wet on his neck and Changkyun’s hands tightening in the front of his shirt and he wants to comfort him but he cannot stop shaking. He thinks he is trembling hard enough to shake the whole bed.

There is movement behind him and then a pair of lips, soft and comforting, on the back of his neck. Kihyun presses himself against Hyungwon’s back and together, he and Changkyun mold their bodies around Hyungwon like two halves of a shell. 

Hyungwon sobs for a very long time, caught between two warm bodies lending him the heat from their very core until he feels like he had never gone cold in the first place, that it was all a bad dream and now this, here, with them, is everything to be alive for. 

For the very first time since his irregular rebirth, he feels truly alive. 

You know what they say: the cuddles may be good but by Jove! The sex is better [citation needed].

For Hyungwon, the realization comes when Kihyun kneels between his legs and licks a stripe up from the base to the head of Hyungwon’s cock. He gets to experience all the little sounds Kihyun makes and there are _a lot_. By now, Hyungwon is sure he can tell exactly what Kihyun is feeling from the kind of noises he makes.

And then there’s Changkyun, the road well taken, the road always taken. Hyungwon knows all the twists and turns like the back of his hand but somehow, Changkyun always manages to surprise him. Like when he presses his fingers inside Hyungwon just so and Hyungwon arches off the bed. Like when he holds Hyungwon’s head in his lap, pushing his cock further down Hyungwon’s throat as Kihyun takes him from behind. 

“Jesus,” Hyungwon breathes as Kihyun’s hooks his thumbs into either side of his hole and holds it open for his tongue to sweep inside. Instinctively, Hyungwon clenches around it and Kihyun smacks the side of his thigh sharply. Hyungwon whimpers and falls back against Changkyun’s chest.

“Easy baby,” Changkyun coos, running his fingers through Hyungwon’s sweat-matted hair, “you’re doing so well, I’m so proud of you.”

The praise makes his eyelids flutter open and he looks mistily up at Changkyun, opening his mouth to thank him but Kihyun chooses that moment to lick up his perineum to his balls, replacing his tongue with two fingers. The burn is instant.

“Kihyun,” Hyungwon whines, digging his heels into Kihyun’s back. Kihyun ignores him and moves up at a leisurely pace, wraps his lips around the head of Hyungwon’s cock. He has the audacity to look up at Hyungwon and bat his eyelashes before sinking down, letting the tip brush the back of his throat and the shaft rest heavily against his soft palate. Hyungwon’s vision blurs like fogged up glass and suddenly all he knows is the impossible warmth of Kihyun’s mouth and Changkyun’s tender fingers brushing hair away from his forehead. 

“Stay with us, sweetheart. We have a ways to go yet.”

 _Oh god, do you?_ Hyungwon thinks with some fear before a sharp cry tears from his mouth as Kihyun’s teeth graze the sensitive skin of his frenulum. Kihyun lets his cock slip out of his mouth with a lewd popping sound that almost has Hyungwon scurrying underneath the bed with shame. 

“Switch with me,” he hears Kihyun say to Changkyun and soon his head is pillowed on Kihyun’s thighs and Changkyun is rolling a condom on. Hyungwon blinks.  
“Oh are we- are we at that part already?”

Changkyun bites back a smile and he hears Kihyun’s gentle laughter above him. “You need more prep, baby? I can go slow. I know it’s been a while.”

“Years,” Kihyun corrects him and Hyungwon glares up at him before looking back at Changkyun.

“Please,” he says in a small voice, “slow.” Changkyun leans forward and kisses him and it is reassuring and soft like so many they have shared before. Hyungwon’s heartbeat evens out as Changkyun pulls away and lines himself up. Kihyun holds him as Changkyun pushes in at a snail’s pace. 

Hyungwon grits his teeth as Changkyun fills him up, the dull throb slowly dimming into a sweet ache that spread all the way up to his stomach. He gasps and Kihyun shushes him, whispers barely audible words of comfort as Changkyun sets a slow rhythm and fucks into him. 

“Good? He asks, breathless, and Hyungwon can only nod, his head lolling back over Kihyun’s thigh as all feeling pinpoints to a core of pleasure that throbs and undulates with each sharp thrust of Changkyun’s hips. Soon, disappointingly soon, he stops.

Kihyun passes a hand over Hyungwon’s face. “On your hands and knees, baby.”

Hyungwon obeys, his mind registering only the request and nothing else as he scrambles out of Kihyun’s lap and gets on all fours on the bed. He feels the tip of Changkyun’s cock rub against his hole as well as the cold sting of the lube as Changkyun pours more. Kihyun smiles down at him and sits up on his knees. Hyungwon looks at him and blinks.

“M-my- my mouth?” he asks, unable to keep the needy hopefulness out of his voice. Kihyun takes his cock in his hands and rubs the head against Hyungwon’s bottom lip, slowly encouraging him to open up. Kihyun’s cock sits heavy on his tongue when Changkyun pushes in, sharper this time, making Hyungwon almost topple forward but Kihyun is there to steady him. 

They time it like they have rehearsed this a thousand times, Kihyun guiding his cock in and out of Hyungwon’s mouth and Changkyun fucking into him from behind. The sound of skin slapping against skin rings loud and lewd in the little room but Hyungwon tunes it out, focused entirely on _fuck, fuck, that’s it baby_ that Changkyun repeats like a rosary and Kihyun’s soft sounds of pleasure as Hyungwon wraps his lips around the shaft and sucks hard, cheeks hollowed out. 

Hyungwon is the first to come. His cum drips down onto the sheets as he is leached of all strength and keeping himself upright becomes an incredibly arduous endeavor. He holds on just long enough for Kihyun to fill his mouth up and collapses forward onto Kihyun’s lap, panting harshly as Changkyun fucks him through oversensitivity until he shudders violently, mutters a soft _god_ and pulls out. 

Hyungwon lets Kihyun card a hand through his hair, sleep ready to overwhelm him. 

“You’d better have thrown that in the bin,” he hears Kihyun say and Changkyun retort a reply before he gives in to comfortable darkness. 

“Say,” Hyungwon says, about an hour into their journey, “why’s he called Barry?”

Next to him, Kihyun snorts but doesn’t elaborate, too focused on his laptop. Hyungwon can see numbers. Lots of them. He averts his gaze immediately and looks to Changkyun.

Changkyun, who has insisted upon taking both the seats on the other side, shrugs. “’Cause Obama.”

Hyungwon gawks. His gaze flits from Barry, locked up in a travel crate up on the seat next to Changkyun, back to Changkyun. 

He blinks innocently. “Oh, don’t you know? His full name is Barack Obama.”

“ _Why??_ ”

“He was the 44th president of the United States, dude.”

“You live in _England!_ ”

“Space and time is an illusion.”

Hyungwon settles back in his seat as Changkyun begins poking the bars of Barry’s cage to entertain himself. He glances at the three parts of his life he is carrying from the little village in Norfolk to the big city of London and feels at peace. Seated by the window, he can see the countryside whir past, fast colour like a reel of film across his eyes. It makes him apprehensive still, the idea of being outside, but this is okay, this is good. This is new, but this is needed. 

London is only a few hours away and so is the prospect of a new life.

**Author's Note:**

> give it up for barry, the goodest boye <3
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/ajghar1)


End file.
